Earthling
by gettinyinggywithit
Summary: Kagura wants to tell her story to the others. — on the Umibozu arc


**Note 1:** Dipping my toes into the _Gintama_ fandom! I'm still working my way through, enjoying it immensely. Just finished the Umibozu episodes (40-42) and thought it bore some further character storytelling. If you want to see my other _Gintama_-related items, follow my tumblr gettinyinggywithit or under the tag #yinggy watches gintama

**Note 2:** I haven't written anything in a few years, fan fic or not, so although it is not an excellent piece, I do feel proud to have completed something. Let's hope this is the first little trickle that becomes a massive overflow of ideas. Cheers!

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**Earthling**

Kagura wants to tell her story to the others. — on the Umibozu arc (eps 40-42)

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_Let me tell you a story about a place where it always rains._

It is a place where all the thugs, miscreants, and nobodies of the universe gather; where the sky is perpetually grey, and the clouds are close and claustrophobic. You can't see the stars. You can only see neon lights, rusty vehicles, ash trays, dusty balconies where no one sings sonnets anymore. It looks like the aftermath of a great war, perhaps, or perhaps a great natural disaster, the apocalypse — only there is a child living there, a child with soft strawberry pink hair and a voice almost too small to hear over the rain. She can be found on rooftops, broken steps, on top of dangerously slanted telephone poles, her umbrella forgotten many yards away — as though she had dropped it in the midst of her trance. At home, her mother is sick. Out there, where she peers into the haze, her father is wandering, and her brother — well, she wasn't sure.

Kagura always starts to tell this story to Gin-chan or Shinpachi, but the timing is never right. She wants to say — _Have you ever felt so hungry you chewed your own fingernails off?_ But they are arguing with Otose about the rent again; Gin is thumbing through a worn copy of _JUMP_; Shinpachi is dozing by the window. They are waiting for new clients, and they haven't made a dime in weeks. Everyone is tense, on edge, trying not to show it. At her side, Sadaharu is unbothered as never, making low, contented noises in his belly. Kagura nibbles on her seaweed snack, sucks hard on the familiar tangy sourness, and decides now is not the time either.

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_I'm not here for the money._

Pappy always talked about money, how he needed to leave home in order to find some. Kagura was never sure how the two things were related, so when she landed in Edo, brushing the stardust off her trousers, she had underestimated the humans' need for the stuff. They asked for it at every door, from the sweetest old granny to kind-hearted widows to ramen shop owners. She could see the stars here, but Edo was a cold place at night. Where was she supposed to sleep? And how, _how_ was she supposed to eat? Her Yato blood cooled toward the adventure.

She quickly finds herself as the hired fists for a local gang; Kagura wonders if her work, protecting the punch-permed boss, or even shaking down debtors, is anything like Pappy's work. When do the heroics start? Would she get a weathered cape to wear someday too?

And Gin-chan arrives. He is splendid, strong, unwavering, handsome — and an idiot, riding a little scooter. She decides she will stay.

Kagura abandons the pretense of asking for wages from him pretty quickly. Their little Odd Jobs operation is more like a pirate ship: if there's any booty at all, they split it three ways. Usually, it just means springing for nabe on a nice day after work. They are sometimes joined by Otose, Catherine, Tae; all six of them politely wrestle with their chopsticks for the best bits of meat, then afterwards lay around on the tatami mat floor. They barely have enough energy to look over their distended bellies at each other, though Shinpachi is humming a pop song when he thinks no one is listening. Kagura thinks this might be the time to share some of herself. Then Gin-chan snores, loudly. She could almost laugh.

_._

_._

_I came here to change myself._

She whispers it at night sometimes, cuddled up close in her little closet in Gin's apartment. She can hear his shallow, chesty breaths from the bedroom; it seems he doesn't sleep well, no matter how lazy he acts during the day. Kagura cannot fathom why. It occurs to her that she doesn't really know anything about him. She doesn't know anything about the war with the Amanto either, the one she heard Gin-chan fought in. She tries to picture him fighting with a serious face, but she realizes she's never really seen it herself. Gin-chan happens upon a scene of danger almost accidentally, and with the most casual of brushes wields his power in the right direction, and saves the day. He's always slouching, an infuriating habit.

Kagura wonders, _Gin-chan, do you not like the feeling of fighting? Do you not become thrilled with the sense of your own power?_ He treats his sword as a plaything, without reverence, yet it could slice through any substance in the universe. Just thinking about Gin's abilities sets her heart racing, makes her knuckles itch and fidget. She could throw her body out the window now and take off, looking for trouble. She could reduce the Odd Jobs to rubble, the Imperial City to ash. All of Edo could burn at her whim.

Does Gin-chan not know this? What is it that he's not telling?

She wonders if she should start the conversation; maybe if she started, he would tell too. Should she just plunge in? Over breakfast one day — _Gin-chan, I am trying to resist my Yato blood! I don't want to be a killer! I want to protect people _— but she could already hear him snorting, from his seat on the couch, the ever-present _JUMP_ open on one knee. _Yeah, what's that got to do with me?_ She flutters a little, staggered. _L-like you_, she wants to say. _I want to protect people like you do._ But he's still giving her that face: Gin-chan has the uncanny ability to pick his nose nonchalantly, while giving you a clear, focused eye. She is never sure where to look.

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_I watched my big brother try to murder Pappy._

That night on the rainy planet, Pappy had just returned home from a long, long trip. Kamui was younger than she is now, but stronger, much stronger. Her brother was beautiful, a glorious child wearing a mask: a sly smile, gleaming sideways tipped eyes, that braid like a sunset pulled very delicately over his shoulder. Yet Kagura had seen, had _felt_, his fists on her jaw, his nails on her scalp: Kamui was lethal, she could feel it in her bones. And that night, Pappy learned it too.

Within seconds, they had gone from a father and his two children strolling down the street to a Yato clan head prepared to murder his chosen heir. Pappy standing over Kamui, whose long sunset braid dipped into a murky puddle. Pappy's arm, a hunk of bloody meat somewhere in an alley. Kagura, wrapped tightly around Pappy's body, the only thing holding back his Yato blood, which called for the fight, for the blood of his son. It had roared in her too.

This story she has never said out loud, not to anyone; she can't imagine pushing the words out between her lips. There is no reason to say this, she thinks, no reason to say any of it. What would be the use? Shinpachi would look horrified; his glasses would slip down his nose and he couldn't adjust them in time. Gin-chan would stare evenly, waiting to see if she would continue. _I said _— _Yeah, yeah_, he'd murmur, _I heard you_. He stands, tall, powerful, still with those too-even eyes. _I'm going to buy dumplings, you want any?_ Her stomach would rumble in reply, effectively off-track.

_._

_._

_I don't want to leave you._

Pappy comes to get her. _Come home with me_, he says, and it is an order. You never disobey the Umibozu, especially as his child. But through her mind flashes Kamui's face, her mother's, the sound of rain, of leaky rooftops, of footsteps receding into the night — and she bristles, so angry she could spit. _Never!_ It is the first time she speaks her feelings out loud. If Kagura weren't so angry, she might have blushed, but she ploughs on. _I am going to stay here with Gin-chan and the others forever!_

But the entire world drops out from under her. Gin-chan tells her to go. _The Earth is too small for you._

Her hero has turned his back, turned a corner, away from her. _Why?_ She begs, _why?_ She cannot begin to ask enough — she cannot see his eyes now, are they steady, as when she tries to tell him about her past? Are they closed? But it is already nighttime, and he has left her on the street, on her knees. Can I shrink myself? She wonders, can I become small enough for the Earth? Her Yato blood snarls: We should never shrink ourselves; we should always show our fangs. She tamps it down, rubbing her sore, sore eyes.

But then, Shinpachi is climbing a ladder, screaming toward the ship: _I need you at Odd Jobs with me! And forget whatever Gin said, he's a moron!_ She lurches forward, ears straining to listen. Can I —

And, finally: it is Gin-chan's voice that floats to her in a dark, dark room, where she sees him squatting at her side, a shit-eating grin on his face, and her snacks in his hand. She can't quite recall what he said, but she knows the tenor, the lilt, the heat and the pull in Gin-chan's voice. That chesty rumble, an apology? And she wakes.

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_I think I am already changing._

She writes little notes to Gin, to Shinpachi, to Tae, to Otose at New Years. She uses her same little pink stationery that she used to write letters to Pappy with, her most precious possessions in the world. To Otose, she jokes about Gin-chan's penniless ways, his too-wavy hair, his creepiness for being single at his age. To Tae, she writes a thank you for letting her idiot brother Shinpachi come and play everyday at Odd Jobs. To Shinpachi, she advises that he replace his glasses with contact lenses so that girls will like him more. To Gin —

_You are my family._

She never sends the notes, but she hopes one day she can say it for herself.

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**Note 3:** Thank you again.


End file.
